


Pride

by my_little_obsession



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:02:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_little_obsession/pseuds/my_little_obsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey attends Pride for the first time and meets Mike....Horrible summary, I know!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, this is the first suits fic that I've ever written, finished and posted here. I really hope it's not terrible. Any constructive feedback is great. Any mistakes are mine!

“Ahhh…right there…yeah,” he says as I pound him from behind. This is not my normal Saturday night. Meaning I don’t normally go into the Harvard Club and run into old sex buddies; well, aside from Scottie. I used to hate when Donna claimed that Scottie was my beard simply because she thought I kept my trysts with men secret. However, that has never been the case. They didn't ask, I didn't tell. If they did ask, I was honest and if they didn't like it tough luck, their loss. Besides, my sex, my business, right? I was and am always careful because I’m too goddamn gorgeous to die young. 

His name is Ryan Bennett and while Scottie was my overall rival, he was my rival in America’s 51 Constitutions course. I used to hate him, not going to go into why, but that hate manifested itself into sex. Good sex. So good, in fact that I sometimes preferred him to Scottie. It didn't hurt that he sucked dick like he made a living out of it.

“You’re almost as good as I remember,” I pant and just as I reach around to stroke him, he pushes back so that I’m sitting on my heels, turning around to face me without breaking his stride. A smile makes its way onto my face, “Okay, maybe a bit better.” 

“Still the cocky sonuvabitch you’ve always been,” he groans heavily and claims my mouth. He was never a good kisser but it’s not as sloppy as it once was.

“Come with me, Harvey,” he says. He’s riding me so hard that I think I just might, although I've never been able to before.

“Shut up,” I push him back onto his back. 

“Come on, Harvey, I’m gonna come.”

“I said shut up,” I pant. 

He arches his back and brings his hand up to stroke himself. Two strokes. Then, he’s coming all over his chest. 

“Shit,” He groans but continues to meet my thrusts. Soon, I’m done and I collapse on top of him.

We both wince as I pull out and roll over so that I’m lying on my back. After about five minutes, Ryan sits up on his elbows and says, “I hate the fact that you've never come with me.”

I look at him impassively. What am I supposed to say? I've never come with anybody; he’s not some special case. At least this time I tried, I told him to shut up so I could concentrate on but as usual it didn't work. Of course, I’m not going to tell him that, so I just shrug, not really knowing how to respond.

He leaves with a disappointed sigh.   
***  
“Good morning,” Donna says with a smile that sends an unwanted tingle down my spine.

“What?” I ask petulantly.

“Now, isn't the time,” she chirps with the same smile, “Jessica wants to see you in her office pronto. Your eleven cancelled. These need your signature.” She hands me the papers quickly, each only deserving of a single glance and her minute directions. 

I quickly get rid of my brief case, sign the required pieces of paper, and make my way to Jessica’s office going through all the possible scenarios that could prompt Donna do use the word ‘pronto’. I haven’t been an ass lately to any of my clients, at least, that I've noticed. I have, unfortunately, been doing my share of pro bono work and I haven’t almost physically assaulted Louis in almost a week.

“Lovely morning,” I am trying to gauge her mood. 

“That depends,” She responds looking up without her usual do-what-I-say-or-you’ll-regret-it look. It’s then I know she wants something from me.  
I dread asking. “On what?”

“How this conversation goes.”

I look at her sideways. Not fully trusting her, I take the bait. “What do you want?”

“I want you to clear your Saturday,” she says evenly.

“May I ask why?”

“I want you to accompany me to an event.”

“Should I break out my best tux for this or—”

“No, it’s casual.”

“Oh?” I say genuinely surprised.

“I want you to accompany me to Pride,” and when I open my mouth to outright deny her cuts me off, “before you say no, I want you to remember that God forsaken Comic con event you forced me to go to.” She looks as though someone has killed her puppy. It wasn't that bad, but to her credit she stuck it out with me and I definitely owe for it. 

I roll my eyes and reluctantly agree.   
***  
“Donna, my office. Now!”   
h  
“How many I be of service?” she demures.

“I know what you did.”

“Whatever do you mean?” She cocks her head to the side, innocently. I look at her with a stern face to let her know I’m serious.

“Fine, I knew you wouldn't do it for me and I don’t have a big enough favor to cash in with you, so I went to the next best thing,” she says looking so smug.  
I just roll my eyes. She knows she has been dismissed.

Because my luck has been really shitty lately, on a personal front, Pride comes quicker than I bargained for. If the morning sun blazing through my windows isn’t enough, just as I am wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I hear an obnoxious banging on my door. What the fuck?

I should screen my visitors like I screen my phone calls maybe then Donna could become less essential to me. 

“What the hell?” I frown as I swing the door open. “It’s nine in the morning, what do you want?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Pride?”

“I didn’t forget and once again it’s nine in the morning, what do you want?” She rolls her eyes at me as she rushes past me like she owns the place. 

“We’re going to start early. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Donna,” I whine. Only Donna and Jessica are allowed to do this to me, allowed access to my life in this way. “I told I would be there, and I will. I’m just not getting out of my bed before 9 in the morning on the weekend.”

She just makes her way to the couch as if she hasn't heard a word I've said. Fine, two can play at that game! I head back to my bedroom and slowly divulge myself of my clothes. Just to be a nuisance I take an hour-long bath. I brush my teeth and style my hair but don’t bother shaving because, honestly, I have no plans to bring anyone back with me and I really want to annoy Donna to the point where she changes her mind.

I walk out in a pair of gym shorts and an old Harvard shirt.

“Do you want something to eat?” I ask her nonchalantly. If we’re doing this we’re doing it on my terms.

She just glares at me. “I already ate.”

“Okay,” I say as I make my way to my kitchen to make an omelet and turn on the coffee maker. When my omelet is almost done I toast some wheat bread and pull out some fruit. A five course breakfast that I almost never indulge in, however, today I’m going to need all my energy to deal with Donna.

After everything is displayed I ask her if she sure she doesn't want anything. She rolls her eyes dramatically. 

“Meet me at the Pier at noon,” she throws over her shoulder on the way to the door. 

“See ya later Donna,” I say with a triumphant smile.

It’s hot. I mean really hot. So hot that I’m tempted to just stay home and endure Donna’s wrath Monday morning but rethink that because nothing is worth that. I was actually thinking about wearing jeans and a long sleeve Henley. Thank fuck I threw some khaki cargos and sky blue, short sleeve button up and flip -flops. If you’re going to wear them, they damn well better be designer.

Ray is right on time, and damn, wouldn't Donna be pleased by his punctual appearance at the entrance to my building? He smiles widely at me as I climb in, relaxing into the seat for the twenty minute ride. When I’m almost there, I text Donna and Jessica to tell them where I am and as I step into a tiny wholefoods store nearby to buy a water. Donna is perched outside the door on the fence with a disturbing smile. I look at her, a bit scared, and that’s when I get a message from Jessica saying she’s not feeling well and that she won’t be joining us. 

“Are you ready?”

In situations like this, or more specifically, in situations like this with Donna, the best course of action is to shut up, admit defeat and do whatever she tells you to do. So far I've gotten off lucky, I seriously pushed coming an hour and some change late. I just take a deep breath and say yes.

As Donna drags me throughout the five boroughs, it seems, she starts to adapt this contrite look on her face. I don’t mention for a while because I figure she’ll spit it out eventually, but when she doesn't it starts to worry me. We’re in front of this hole in the wall bar, and now it’s not just her face giving her away, it’s her whole body. Donna is fidgeting. She never fidgets. What the fuck is going on?

“Donna.”

“What?” She says, trying to look unaffected but failing.

“Donna.” I snap back.

“Okay, don’t get upset and don’t leave,” she says, her gaze fixed over my shoulder. She pauses as I turn around to see what she’s looking at but I don’t see anything or anyone that warrants my attention so I turn back to her.

“I’m meeting someone here. Don’t be rude. Don’t leave. Or you’ll regret it.”

“You brought me out here as a shield for a blind date?” I ask incredulously. I can’t believe this. Just as things are falling into place a small blonde appears of seemingly nowhere.

“Donna? Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” small blonde says and gives Donna a hug and kiss.

“And you are?” I ask because I’m being ignored. Donna steps in quickly.

“Harvey…this is my friend Jenny. Jenny, this is my friend Harvey.”

“Friend and boss, hello there Jenny,” Donna rolls her eyes at me.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Honestly?” I start and before I can continue Donna cuts me off.

“You ready to have that drink,” Donna asks her with the smile that wins everyone over. She is putting it on thick.

“Actually, not quite. I’m waiting on my friend; he should be here in a minute.”

At this moment I've never been so grateful to have my shades because I can’t help but roll my eyes. This better not be some blind double date type of shit because if that happens pissing Donna off is going to be unavoidable.   
“Donna, a word?” She looks at me then takes two steps to the side.

“Being that I’m under strict instructions not to be rude… Is this a fucking blind date?” I ask removing my shades hoping that my eyes are conveying the annoyance and fury that's engulfing me right now.

“You know, or should know, me better than that. Your love life is none of my concern unless we have another Scottie situation. Now behave.” She snaps back and turns her attention back to the small blonde. 

After a minute, I walk back over to overhear some of Donna’s and the little blonde’s flirty small talk. As I try not to be too standoffish, and try to participate in the conversation when the little blonde touches Donna arm and says hello to someone once again over my shoulder.

When I turn around all I see is blue. Which is amazing because my shades are so dark almost every color is dull. Nevertheless, I see big, Bambi like, blue eyes. Literally the bluest I've ever seen. Untainted. No fly away strands of green, hazel or gray; just blue. 

“Donna, this is Mike; Mike Ross,” she says with a smile still plastered on her face.

“Mike this is Harvey; Harvey Specter,” she says politely but her smile fades a little.

He turns to me with a smile and his hand out. I remove my shades to get a better look at his eyes and shake his hand. When I remove them I find that my shades actually did dull his eyes because they only got brighter. Damn.   
However, in the middle of the thought that I’m going to take him home tonight, I peruse his body and I’m stopped dead in my tracks.

Shit. 

He’s dressed like a fucking hobo.

A white Darth Vader t-shirt with a checkered blue and white button down, with some ripped and dirty looking Levi’s paired with some vans.

“How you doing?” he starts.

“I've been better, thank you.” My response doesn't get any reaction.

“Mike and I work together at Giorgio Armani.”

“Really? I’d never guess,” I say and that gets his attention.

“Oh,” he says this time perusing my body, “I like Prada too but I don’t believe in spending my rent on flip flops.” 

Smartass; check.

He doesn't stop there. 

“The Giorgio Armani ones are better,” he says pointing out my shades.

“What makes you think so?” I ask because…really? I hadn't seen Armani line yet but I preferred Prada.

He just looks smug and hands me his phone. On it is a picture of my shades only from Armani.

“Because I designed them, I’ll see if I can get you a pair.” He winks.

They are better, but he doesn't need to know that. I hand him his phone back and gesture for everyone to go inside the hole in the wall.

It’s not long before I excuse myself (Donna lets me), and make my way home to change into some jeans and a button down because I know it’s going to get a little nippy later.

About 2-3 hours later I step back outside and decide to take a cab back to the pier. The crowd should have dispersed by now. I get out about two blocks down and spot a small eatery that sells hot and cold sandwiches so I duck inside.  
After I order my sandwich, I stand to the side and pull out my phone to see if I have any missed calls or messages.

I look up to see this tall brunette eyeing me; I smile and nod politely, going back to my phone. I still feel her eyes on me but I figure if I don’t make any more eye contact she’ll keep her distance. This usually works. 

“Hi,” she tries seductively. Now sometimes, I entertain women like her. I flirt a little but not enough to make them think I want to take them home. Those extremely few and fortunate women were at least original. You’d think with the amount of time she’s spent staring at me she’d come up with something better but I’m not in the mood for conflict so I just say hello and go back to my phone, hoping she gets the hint. If I’m looking at my phone instead of you, just walk away. She stays.

“I’m Marissa.” 

“Hello, Marissa.” I keep it short and don’t offer my name because I’m, unfortunately, still trying to convey the message that I’m not interested. No such luck.

“And you are?”

“Harvey.”

“Well, listen Harvey, how about me and you –” I cut her off because I done torturing myself. “Marissa, I’m gay.” Short and sweet.

“What?” 

Okay, now this is too much. “Gay. I’m a man. Who likes to sleep with—”then I pause because her expression still looks confused. “Sweetheart, I don’t sleep with women.” 

“I get it, asshole.”

I nod slowly, just as my order is called. After I collect my food, I turn around to see Marissa with some tall stocky guy, who I have to assume, is her boyfriend.

“Asshole,” he growls.

“I’m not interested so whatever lie she told you, you need to address it in order to save yourself an ass whooping, humiliation and a law suit,” I say smoothly.

This, of course, upsets him even more and before I know it, he’s swinging. I dodge it and come back with a left hook and then a right upper cut sending him flailing to floor, but not without him tearing my shirt pocket and popping off most of the buttons of my shirt in an attempt to take me with him. 

That’s when I hear another commotion from not 5 feet away. Two other guys are fighting. Well not really fighting, the guy, who I soon learn is Mike, has another guy who is just as tall but not as stocky, in a choke-hold telling him to calm down. 

After everything goes down, the cops are called, the two guys are arrested and Mike and I have to give statements.

“Okay, Mr. Specter, we’re going to have you come down to the station in a day or two to give a formal statement and formally press charges, if you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there,” I hiss as I look at the two assholes in the back of the squad car. I walk over to Mike who’s still talking to the officer and place my hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Ross,” the cop says, “I’ll definitely be in touch.”

When he leaves we both speak at the same time.

“You alright?”

He smirks. “I should be asking you that!”

“Why? I had it under control. I turn around you have some poor guy in the choke hold.”

“When I walked in, you were already mid punch, then I saw the other guy coming at you. I punched him but when he didn't go down I put him in the choke hold.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“High school wrestling,” he smiles smugly, “Some of it stuck, I guess.” Sheepishly rubbing a hand through his blond hair, he looks at the floor. 

I take my hand off his shoulder and move around so that I’m facing him. He’s as tall as me but he’s really lanky. But obviously it wouldn't be wise to underestimate him.  
“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Why’d you help? You could have…” I don’t finish the sentence.

“I like a good fight; I also like a fair fight. Also, something told me you weren't the aggressor, the brunette looked like trouble,” he laughs.

At the moment all I can think is, so much for not taking someone home tonight. 

“Dinner?” I ask. He just looks at me suspiciously, so I elaborate, “I figure I owe you one.”  
“Okay, my place.”

“I meant at my place!”

“You owe me one, so dinner is at my place. I can fix your shirt there,” he says tugging on my shirt a little and making a good point. The thought flashing through my head says I could just buy another one but given what Mike said earlier and my sudden new found interest in him, I keep it to myself.

“Fine.” I mumble and hail a cab to take us back up town.

To Brooklyn. You've got to be fucking kidding me. Though I can’t say I’m all that surprised given the way he dresses.  
As we exit the cab, he gives the cabbie some money and we walk, yes walk, up four flights of graffiti ridden stairs. His apartment is at the end of the hall.  
“Brooklyn suits you.”

“Funny you should say that, Manhattan suits you,” he says with a smile that really isn't a smile.

“Why do I feel like you’re judging me?”

“I’m just giving as good as I’m getting. I was thinking Chinese or pizza for dinner. There’s beer in the fridge, but you look like the liquor type so…help yourself,” he says and points to a small chest nestled by the couch.

“Well, aren't you fancy.”

“Not all of my friends are as civilized as I am. Chinese or pizza?” he asks as he picks up the phone, hands poised, getting ready to dial.

“You choose.”

Two hours later, the food is gone, my shoes have come off so that I can lie on the couch, we’re bonding over the Hangover 2 and Mike is more than a little drunk. Oh, how far we've come. 

“Hey,” I say to Mike as he’s finishing off his fourth beer, “you should slow down.”

“Why? So you can keep up?” He asks, finishing off the beer while gazing evenly at me. 

I have to admit even though I had sort of mixed feelings when we first met, between him helping with those assholes from the sandwich shop, fixing my shirt and keeping up with movie quotes, I have to say I wouldn't mind getting to know him a little better.

“I don’t want to or have to keep up, kid.”

He pivots his body so that he completely facing me and starts to make his way up my body. When we’re face-to-face and so close that I feel him breathing, he says, “Kid, huh?” but my face remains neutral.  
When I don’t respond he nuzzles me, travelling up my jawline nipping my earlobe, whispering in my ear how good I smell.

“I know.” I respond.

As he takes my earlobe into his mouth and his hand travels up chest, I still haven’t figured how far I’m willing to take this tonight. I do want to know a little more about this kid though. He’s proven today that first impressions aren’t always right. He dresses like a hobo yet he’s a designer for Armani, he looks significantly malnourished yet he was able to put a guy, who had at least 50 pounds on him, in a fucking choke hold and those eyes. Damn. He just might be something to reckon with. Just when I decide to test the theory he breaks me out of my reverie with his tongue in my ear. That’s new. I can’t help but to run my fingers through his hair and pull a little so that the filthy moan threatening to be heard stays silent. But Mike is good. 

“Oh, so you’re one of those, huh?” he purrs in my ear.

“What exactly am I one of?” I ask pulling his hair so that we are face to face again.

He smoothly positions himself between my legs and pulls me by my hips so that I’m flat on the couch.

“I’m saying I never figured you for a top. I mean, yeah, you’re filthy rich, arrogant and stupidly gorgeous, but in my, albeit limited experience, those types are usually the biggest bottoms.”

“You would know this how, exactly? You don’t know the first thing about me.” I’m now a bit annoyed. Who the fuck does he think he is? He stares at me, with a seemingly confused face, for what seems like an eternity only to lower himself so that we are staring into each other’s eyes. 

“No? So you’re not Harvey Reginald,” he makes a face that says really? “Specter, Senior Partner at Pearson Hardman. Fifth in your class at Harvard Law, while your rival Dana Scott or does she prefer Scottie, finished first. Grew up in a modest home in Andover, Connecticut with parents married 25 years until one of them decided they’d do better without the other- “

“Don’t talk about my parents,” I seethe “and how did you-“

“I work in fashion because I love it but I’m a certified genius and I’ve never had a one track mind,” he whispers as his lips take over mine. 

Moist, full and warm, and I want this to last all night. When he breaks away he continues, “I made technology my 1,689th track because you were my 1,688th and I just might be on this for a while.”  
I find that I don’t mind that. 

“Just shut up and –“ I’m not able to finish my sentence. It’s smooth and rough and a good swirl of other contradictions that just add up to, dare I say it, perfection. Limited experience my ass, he nearly wears me out.

When he breaks away from abusing my mouth, in the best way, he pulls me up by shirt to guide me into his bedroom. By the time we’re there my shirt is half way off my shoulder, my jeans are unzipped, clinging to my hips. He slips his hands into my jeans and gives my ass a good squeeze before he pushes me onto the bed and removes my jeans and briefs in one swift move. There’s only one problem.

“Care to tell me why you’re still fully clothed,” I ask as he straddles me.

“You don’t worry about me, I’ll get there.”

Fuck that. I go to rid him of jeans but he swats my hands and roughly puts them over my head.

“Am I going to have to tie you up? Or better yet use my handcuffs?” he sticks he tongue down my throat and uses his other hand to stroke me. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to…I don’t even know. As he begins to suck on my pulse point I tell him to do as he pleases.

He goes into his nightstand and brings out lube, condoms and handcuffs that look like they came straight from the civil war.

“Mike, wait a minute. Those look like an accident waiting to happen.” 

“What, you don’t trust me?” He demurs, as I roll my eyes at that.

“If I get stuck in these, you are in for a world of trouble.”

He ignores me and goes to handcuff me to the bed. His tongue and hands travel my body, biting one nipple and twisting the other and I’m already hard. His hands and tongue continue to make their way down my body when he bites me.  
“What are you doing?”

“Just making sure I have your attention,” then he swallows me. My dick spends the next 20 minutes at the back of his lovely throat. His tongue weaves its way up and down side to side. He slips one finger inside me, crooks it and I’m coming in his mouth. When he peels off he kisses me so that I can taste myself. He continues to finger me adding one then two fingers before he prepares himself to breach me. He’s bigger than I originally thought so it takes some adjustment but after it’s smoothing sailing.

“Mmmm, Mike, take the cuffs off,” I tell him between kisses, “Please.”

“I love it when you beg,” he says into my mouth then removes them.

“Oh, I’ll show you beg,” I say and roll him over so that I’m on top.

I ride him until all he can do is moan when it happens. Something I never thought would actually happen simply because it never has before. Seriously, I had by now, nicely placed it in the category of never going to happen; we came together.   
***  
“Damn,” Mike groans deeply, “How long has it been since you got some? I feel like I got some kind of special treatment,” he laughs while still trying to catch his breathe. He sits up to kiss but I stop him.

“I’ll be right back.” I ease him out of me, throw on my jeans (with my phone inside) and head to the bathroom.

“Where are you going,” he asks.

“To the bathroom.”

“You need jeans and a phone to do that?” I look at him confused as to how he knows I have my phone and as if he reads my mind he tells me sees the imprint in my back pocket.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Um hmmm.” He closes his eyes and I make my way to the bathroom to call Donna. I think to myself how girly and overly emotional this is but I just can’t believe it.  
She doesn't answer right away.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me right now,” she answers like she’s been running.

“What are you doing?” I whisper

“Same thing I presume you were doing before this godforsaken call.”

“It happened,” I interrupt.

“WHAT happened?” I hear her whisper to jenny to stop for a second.

“You know how I never…you know… with anyone? Well, I just did.”

“Okay, good for you,” she says slightly annoyed. I hear someone in the background, who I presume is Jenny and I realize I interrupted something but I don’t care at the moment.

“Donna.”

I hear whispering apologies and I roll eyes because I wish she would get back to the matter at hand.

“Harvey-“

“Does that mean anything?”

“Harvey, I've gotta go.” She hangs up. Well shit. I take the time to actually use the bathroom and when I walk out I see Mike standing in the kitchen fixing something to drink.

“So?”

“Sooo…”

“What’d Donna say?” I look at him like I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“‘Does that mean anything?’ You sounded kind of panicky or surprised I should say.”

“Do you always eavesdrop?”

“No, but you always deflect.”

“Nothing helpful,” I tell him and he walks over to give me what seems to be water. I take a sip and he tells me to finish it as he slides his hands down his briefs that are now tented.  
I down the rest of the water and hook my fingers into briefs pulling him toward me. “Looks like you need a little help with that,” I whisper in his ear and take his earlobe between my teeth.  
~  
I wake in the morning feeling like I’m in a sauna. Mike has plastered himself from head to toe to my back. There’s not a place on either of our bodies that isn't connected somehow. While usually I wouldn't mind, I feel like I’m in menopause and I have to piss like nobody’s business, so I try to maneuver myself away. Only Mike has a steel grip and if I move forward anymore I’m going to end up on the floor so I try and use my words. After about the fifth time of me yelling his name I finally get a response and get him to roll over.

“Hey.”

“Hmmm,” he turns slightly and his eyes open marginally.

“I’m going to get breakfast, you want anything?”

“Just coffee,” he mumbles and rolls back over then I hear mumble something closely resembling sugar.  
******  
Once I leave I take my time because I need time to think. To about think everything that happened last night because I feel like my world has been tilted slightly on its axis. I mean I’ve never been one to be overly emotional for obvious reasons but last night was…good. Better than good, it was great. As I step into a small bodega I decide that despite that fact that we started off on the wrong foot, I really like him.

I pick up some bagels, bacon and eggs and stop to get coffee (one with extra sugar) on the way back. When I get back I start the food and realize I’m cloaked in silence, so I go to put some music on when I hear a knock on the door. It’s not my place so ignore it but the knocking doesn't stop and Mike still hasn't gotten up so I answer it.

“Mi-,” she starts then looks up. “You’re not Mike.”

I can’t believe I’m looking at a miniature version of Molly Ringwald. She’s short, about 5’6 with strawberry blonde hair, big pouty pink lips and big brown eyes. Freckles that quite obviously cover her small but very curvaceous body and I quickly decide that if I didn't discriminate (gender wise) she’d probably be a one night stand, after all I did have a bit of a crush on Ms. Ringwald back in the day. As she stands there staring I figure I need to be the one to break the ice.

“Good eye, how can I help you?”

“Right,” she says shaking her head as if to clear whatever block she had. “I’m looking for Mike.”

“And you would be?”

“Molly,” she extends her hand, “Molly Ringwald,” and before I can help myself I respond, “Yeah right.”

“I know,” she continues looking sheepish, “I’m Mike’s girlfriend, and you are again?”

Well, now as you can imagine how I feel right now, because Mike never mentioned having a girlfriend. I introduce myself and invite her in.

“So, you’re Mike’s girlfriend? How long have you guys been together?”

“Uh, about six months give or take. How do you know Mike?”

“Oh, we just met yesterday. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Yesterday.” It didn't come out as a question but I heard it anyway.

“Yeah, at pride, our friends are friends, yadda yadda yadda,” I say as I begin cracking eggs and frying bacon again.

“Oh, I didn't know he was going to pride, we haven’t talked for like two days. I was out of town for a bit.”

“Oh.” She continues to talk about how she works at an animal shelter and that’s how she met mike, how much she loves him and something or other and about 10 minutes in, I hear Mike moving about and walk into the room. 

“I smell bacon,” Mike says with sleep still in his voice and his briefs hanging low on his hips. He walks straight past Molly, who apparently he fails to see and reaches over me to get some bacon. After he takes a bite, he swings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in for a surprisingly chaste but passionate kiss. When he releases me I let him know we have company.

“Hey, Molly, what are you doing here? I thought you were out of town?” he asks as he walks over to her and hugs and kisses her (which makes me a bit jealous but only for second) probably trying to make her forget what she just witnessed. “How was your trip?”   
But no such luck.

“I know you’re affectionate but my goodness, do you always get kiss people you just met like that or more particularly, do always kiss guys you just met like that?”

That right there makes me smile. Through her little speech, I thought she was the type that owned a million cats and was a push over. While I was going to tease Mike about how much of a “good time” we had last night and how he fit right in at Pride, it seems Molly has other plans and I’m too willing to sit back and watch.

“What are you talking about? It was just a thank you for last night and how many times have I playfully grabbed your brothers’ ass?”

“Yeah? What happened last night?”

“Umm. I helped him out last night and he bought me dinner.”

“Harvey is just a friend and cooked us breakfast apparently,” he finishes when she doesn't respond. 

She turns to me and asks, “Harvey, where did you sleep last night?”   
I like her.

Every fiber of my being is telling me to tell her that I slept with Mike, in the most biblical sense, but I stop myself because, yeah, he deserves to be dropped on his ass for not only cheating on his girlfriend but for deceiving me but there no reason for her pain to come from me and I don’t plan on sleeping with him ever again even if I did experience something that might be in my case (hopefully not though) once in an astronomically rare blue moon.

“I slept on the crappy couch.” She looks at me trying to sift out whether or not I’m telling the truth but I make a living off of having no emotions and she eventually gives in.

“Okay, well I have to go to work, um, will you call me later?”

“Of course, do you want me to walk you out?”

“No, no, I’m good,” she turns to gather things from the couch and turns to me with hand out, “Harvey it was nice to meet you, and I hope to see you around.”

“Likewise.”

When the door finally shuts, Mike takes a second then turns around to ask if he can have some breakfast.   
***  
I have to admit that outside of my work I’ve never been so pissed. So pissed that I have to take a second to calm down in order to say what’s on my mind before I become uncharacteristically violent. After I fix my plate and sit down at his almost non-existent dining room table and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“You know what’s weird? I read people for a living, Mike. I see their little ticks, I see through their pools of bullshit, and get paid obscenely well for it,” I begin, “But I never would have guessed you are total and complete douchebag. It’s mind boggling really. I mean yesterday could have started better, partially on my end but then later I started to maybe rethink my opinion of you when you helped me out. Needless to say I’ve never, in my life, been so wrong.”

He just sits there looking at me, his face poker face as good if not better than mine.

“Uhh…maybe because I’m not a complete and total douche-bag, Harvey. I didn't mean to cause self-doubt,” he says with a half-smile. 

“It take more than some scrawny kid to make me doubt anything that is me and what the fuck do you call last night and not to mention this morning?”

He has the nerve to look annoyed. Are you fucking kidding me?

“I call last night fun, really good fun,” he says and it looks like he’s reminiscing. Now is not the time.

“Mike,” I grit through my teeth.

“I call this morning an unfortunate turn of events. I don’t know what she told you but we’re not together-“

“You met her brother!”

“We bumped into him on the street! After that Molly just started making play dates with him and his boyfriend.”

“That’s really convenient,” I roll my eyes and get collect things ready to the hell home.

“Where are you going?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“When can I see you see again?” He asks with actual hope and a little bit of arrogance in his voice. Unbelievable.

“When implies possibility and there is none.”

He just smiles and says, “We’ll see.”

It doesn't take long to get over the ridiculousness that was Mike Ross, I mean there are still residual feelings of anger and lust but for the most part I’m over it. As I wake up to the sun making its presence known again, I feel Ryan’s hands travelling down my spine. 

 

On Monday, I debate back and forth on whether or not I should tell Donna about the debauchery that happened with Mike but I decide not to only because I want to completely forget about it. Forget about how I thought we had a bit a connection even it was just a love of the Hangover 2. Forget about how, the sex was just….NO I’m not going to do it again. The time for reminiscing is over.

“Harvey, your 11 o’clock is here.” Good I need something to occupy my mind I think to myself.   
****

The next three months is graciously kind. I close two huge clients, so Jessica can stop riding my ass, Donna it seems has gratefully decided not to mention that god forsaken weekend and for some odd reason Louis hasn't been a complete pain in ass. I don’t know why but right now far be it for me to ask questions. In fact, I feel so good I start my weekend with my, private, guilty pleasure TGIF. I get there and there’s a pretty decent crowd so I head straight for the bar and two Manhattan’s in I feel two arms enclose me.

“I have to say, you never struck as the type to eat at TGIF," I turn to find Mike and he takes the seat next to me.

“What? No love?

“Love? I’d have to get past indifference first,” I say enjoying the shocked and sort expectant look on his face before looking him up and down. For the love of God everything he has on is Tom Ford except the shoes are his home brand, of course. I know because I have on the same pair. He has on a black button up knit sweater with the first two buttons undone, a pair black slacks that fit him so well it’s ridiculous. He looks good.

“What happened to not spending your rent on flip flops?” He just smiles.

“I've been a little busy; I meant to call you although you probably wouldn't have picked up. I’m now the Creative Director of Giorgio Armani. Which is why I still wouldn’t spend my rent on flip flops but I’d spend it on Tom Ford,” we both share a tense laugh at that. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I had business meetings all day and I've been apartment hunting. Also, I’m hungry,” he adds and turns to the bartender.  
****  
“You know what’s weird? I've missed you.” He whispers. Of all the statements I could make and the questions I could ask, all that comes out is, “Really? Why is that weird?”

“I really don’t want to ruin the good time we had tonight… but I never properly, well no, I never apologized for our first encounter. You were right about me being a douche and I talked to her about where we, as in Molly and I, stand. We are not together and never have been and I failed to communicate that to her.”

“Good.” I say nonchalant. I didn't miss that he didn't answer the question but with the sincere apology for making me look like a fool I let it go….for now.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Harvey,” he calls and grabs me by the hand.

“Yeah?” He moves in close, slow almost nervous. I see it coming but I don’t move because I haven’t told myself yet that I don’t want it. 

Moist, full and warm, is once I again what I feel when his lips make contact with mine.Shit. It takes about 3 long seconds for me to start to reciprocate. You’ll have to excuse my hesitance. I almost forget how strong he is until he’s sliding his hand around my waist and pulling me flush against him and I’m threading my hand through his hair, I guess in a vague, subconscious way I’d missed him too? Before I know it, it’s over, and I have to relearn how to get my breathing under control.

“I’ll call you. You’ll pick up.”

I laugh. ”Maybe,” and he kisses me again.

“Night, Harvey.”

“Night, Michael.” He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> If this doesn't get horrible feedback and enough people like it, this may or may not be last of this! I have ideas.
> 
> Thanks


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